


At the End of the Knight

by BadBlond099



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arkham Asylum, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, ultimatum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadBlond099/pseuds/BadBlond099
Summary: After his penultimate confrontation with Batman, Jason returns to Slade in a state of emotional turmoil. Slade chooses to take advantage of the situation.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	At the End of the Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Ey yo!
> 
> So I can write dark. I mean, I can think dark. Weeeeell this got a little dark.
> 
> Please, please, PLEASE acknowledge the tags!
> 
> I replayed 3 Arkham games recently (excluding Origins if only 'cuz it's not available for PS4...aaand I gave my PS3 to a friend) for the sake of a different story I'm working on. I like doing my research. Well, though it's not the most well received game, I LOVE Arkham Knight if only 'cuz of my obsession with Jason. But a little aspect I always want to know more about: the Arkham Knight and Deathstroke. This is based on a little something towards the end of the game, influenced by the Arkham Knight: Genesis comic series and my own little twisted mind.
> 
> Well...yeah. That sparked this. Um. Enjoy? Again, please, if ANYTHING tagged makes you worry, turn back now.

It had taken Jason far too long to return to the command center. After taking the drill tank out for a spin, he’d cut all contact with Scarecrow—a move Slade didn’t mind as the freak was getting tiresome—but then he encountered Batman face to face. From what Slade could tell, the kid had finally revealed his identity to the dark knight, letting the brooding menace know just how badly he’d failed.

And then something happened that cut off his communication.

Not that Slade cared. The kid was brash. Maybe he’d learned to focus his anger, but he was still reckless. That sort of thing would get him killed one day. Not that the Bat would ever kill him.

Almost an hour without a word. Slade was beginning to feel anxious. After the stunt Jason had pulled with the Cloudburst tank—where Batman had given him quite the scare before backing away in a shaken panic from the effects of Scarecrow’s gas—Slade knew Jason should have taken a moment to calm down. For all he knew, the idiot had gone out guns blazing and dosed himself with the stuff to put an end to his own miserable existence.

Then the door flew open behind him and Jason came stumbling in, one foot barely falling in front of the other. Slade watched in quiet judgment as the kid hit the floor, barely catching himself against the concrete. It was plain to see that he’d been through a beating. His armor was cracked both physically and mentally. The part of his helmet that had vaguely resembled his old mentor had been removed completely (no doubt the reason why communications weren’t going through), leaving behind the blood-red helmet that eerily resembled what the Joker would have once worn, back when he worked for the Red Hood gang.

How cruel, Slade thought, that the clown had claimed yet another aspect of Jason Todd’s being.

“He’s still alive,” Slade said calmly.

“I KNOW!” Jason pressed the releases on his helmet and pulled on it until it finally came free from his head. He threw it down hard, though it didn’t even gain a new scratch. The kid looked wrecked. A cut lip, face swollen in a couple places, and eyes red and puffy from crying. Maybe Batman wouldn’t kill him, but he certainly got a few licks in.

“He knows who you are.”

“I KNOW!” Unfiltered by the helmet, Jason’s voice sounded broken. It cracked like thunder; raw and unbidden. Slade hadn’t seen the kid like this in a while. It was a shame. All of his conditioning was breaking down because of one confrontation with the Bat.

“You’re done.” Slade turned away from him, checking the remaining forces that they had available. “I’ll see our contract through, then we’re done.”

“N-no.” Jason picked himself up, but Slade didn’t bother to look at him. The kid had been through enough. Slade never expected him to pull this off. It was asking too much of his already fragile state of mind. “I…I should have ended this already. This was a mistake. All of this.” He stepped towards Slade, reaching for the controls, and Slade caught his wrist.

“I can’t let you do that.”

The clench in Jason’s jaw and indignant gaze told Slade multitudes. Not only had the conditioning been broken, but the mutual respect between them was wiped away as well. Batman had undone everything. Had taken his soldier from him. It was unacceptable.

“I’ll double what Scarecrow paid us,” Jason said flatly. “It’s over, Slade. I should have never—”

Slade twisted Jason’s arm hard, forcing it behind his back. The startled soldier threw his head back in an attempt to break Slade’s hold but only succeeded in hitting his head against the Deathstroke mask. He tried to reach around with his other arm, but that only bid Slade to press his twisted arm up harder, threatening to pop it out of the socket. “Don’t bother, kid. You’re not focused. You’ll never beat me like this.”

“Bastard…”

This insolence wasn’t going to be tolerated. Jason would have to be retaught his place. One easy flip of a switch and the manual controls for the tanks and drones around the city went dark. The soldiers could handle themselves for a few minutes.

Jason threw an elbow back, truly testing Slade’s patience. “That’s quite enough from you.” Slade gave Jason’s captive arm a harsh shove and the kid cried out in pain as it came right out of the socket. He then shoved Jason down so that he was bent over the tank controls, unable to keep himself from pressing his face to a number of switches with just one arm to keep him up and Slade pressing down between his shoulder blades. “You need to remember why you’re here.”

“F-fuck off.”

Pathetic. The trembling in his voice had returned. He was reduced to the sniveling mess that he’d been during the first month of their time together. That same kid who had been taken apart in Arkham. It had taken great effort to put him back together. To get him to sleep through the night without screaming. There was nothing comforting about that time. Everything Slade did set the kid off. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even bathe without a panic attack.

Slade had spent evenings forcing Jason into a tight embrace to keep him steady. He had to eat the same foods he offered the kid right in front of him just to get him to give it a shot. He had to be there when the kid bathed, reassuring him that he wasn’t going to be waterboarded or forced to do anything by anyone. Eventually these practices became second nature. Eventually Jason eased into the embraces. He’d eagerly await mealtimes. He even invited Slade to bathe with him. Before Slade knew it, he had grown fond of the kid.

But that never stopped Jason from obsessing over Batman. As he came to move past his past torment, he continued to waste his time on the Dark Knight. It was a weakness, in Slade’s opinion, but the kid never ceased to line his pockets, so he did as he was asked and soon enough they amassed an army to take down the hero for good.

And Slade believed, for just a moment, that the kid would be the one to finally do it.

Slade reached around Jason’s waist, finding the belt buckle.

“St-stop!”

“Struggle more and I’ll dislocate your other arm.”

Jason went stiff as a board, but Slade could feel him shaking. Of course he was shaking. Slade had been so gentle with him for so long. This was probably coming as something of a shock. Considering the kid’s history, this wasn’t something he’d soon forget. If Slade was lucky, the next large-scale attack the kid would organize would be mounted against Deathstroke.

It took some work, but the buckle came undone. God forbid Slade should have to work through all of the straps and holsters intertwined around Jason’s legs, so he just gave the back of the kid’s pants a hard yank. An exclamation escaped the kid’s lips as the seam of his pants caught against his front. After just that first tug, the kid went boneless. No doubt he’d dealt with similar situations back in Arkham. His assaulters likely weren’t nearly as considerate as Slade was. The thought of someone like Bane tearing right through whatever flimsy clothes the kid was allowed…of Zsasz inside of him, slicing up his back while taking what he wanted…

Another hard yank and the pants gave enough to expose Jason’s ass. “You think he cares for you?” Slade asked, brushing a gloved hand over the kid’s exposed rear. “You think, just because he knows you’re alive, he’ll do anything more to help you? To protect you?”

“H-he…he didn’t know,” Jason muttered, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

“Making excuses FOR him? I thought you were better than this.” Slade undid the front of his pants and Jason was left all but vibrating as he fished out his member, stroking it a few times to get it up for the situation. No need for preamble. It would be uncomfortable, but Slade would heal. Jason would recover eventually as well, but this would leave a new mark. Maybe even one as deep as the one that marred his face.

“Please…”

“This is all it takes to bring you right back to where you started,” Slade said softly, spreading Jason’s cheeks with one hand. Little scars traced his crack. Damage from the past. Blades carving skin, nails digging into places they didn’t belong. What an unfortunate sight. “Batman acknowledges you just for a second and you’re ready to go crawling back. Is that it?”

It wasn’t easy, but one thrust and Slade penetrated Jason, forcing a distressed cry from him. The kid was tight. Out of practice. It had been more than a month since they’d had the chance to lie together. The rough drag was excruciating on Slade’s shaft, but there was no going back.

He pulled out just enough to get better leverage and then snapped his hips forward. Jason yelped, scrambling with his good hand to get away from what was happening to him. The sheer brutality of it would leave him with new nightmares.

It had to be truly memorable, so, as he found a pace, Slade set up a line of communication directly with the Batcave—a connection he only had access to because of Jason—and the old butler’s face appeared on screen.

[Batman! How is prog—who are you?]

“Ngh!” Jason struggled more upon hearing the old man’s voice. Slade bucked his hips particularly hard for good measure and the kid pressed his good arm over his mouth and bit into his sleeve.

“Connect me with Batman. The Arkham Knight may be done, but I’m still here.”

[This isn’t how we operate. How did you get this channel?]

“Put me through, Pennyworth, or you’ll regret it.”

The man reluctantly put the line on hold and Slade resumed his punishing pace. It hadn’t gotten easier since Jason continued to fight the intrusion with every fiber of his being.

Then Batman’s face came onto the screen and Jason slammed his head down against the control panel.

“It’s good to see you again, Batman. It’s been a while.”

[Slade.]

Slade never appreciated the fact that Batman knew his identity, but Jason had evened the odds when he gave Slade Batman’s identity.

“Codename’s Deathstroke, and I’m on the job. Now, as I recall, you once said that I didn’t worry you. But our mutual friend, the Arkham Knight?” He traced his fingers over scars on Jason’s ass. “He says different. He sought me out. Said I was the toughest bastard you ever went toe-to-toe with.” He jerked his hips as Jason clenched down on him so hard that it was getting extremely uncomfortable.

[The Knight’s gone, Slade,] Batman declared with a hint of anger in his voice. He truly didn’t understand. [You’re a merc without a job.]

Slade reached out and raked his fingers though Jason’s hair. “Not exactly. I took payment in advance for this one, and that makes me professionally obliged to finish this.”

He hung up at that, satisfied that the message had gotten through to Batman and that Jason knew where he stood. Where he belonged.

“Don’t you see? He couldn’t save you now just as he couldn’t save you then. I’m the one who saved you. I’m the one who pulled you from the ashes.” He let his fingers slip from Jason’s hair and slide slowly, gently, down his back. Feeling every bump in the armor. Every vulnerability hidden under layers of titanium weave. Jason Todd. The perfect soldier. The perfect storm.

“Dnt…”

“What was that?” Slade’s hand finally reached Jason’s ass and he pulled it apart just enough to ease some of the tightness around his cock.

“You…didn’t…save…me…” Jason took his arm from his mouth, a string of drool clinging to the part of his sleeve as he tried futilely to push himself up again. “I…I saved me…You…would have killed—Aaauugh!”

Enraged, Slade began thrusting in earnest again, plunging in as deep as he could with every stab. Motion was getting easier as blood slicked his intrusions. Every slam of his hips was punctuated by staccato cry from Jason, who had resigned to just trying to brace himself with his good arm. There was blood on the control panel where he’d slammed his head earlier. The kid would rather suffer in silence than show Batman his torment? After everything that he’d been through, how could he be so stubborn?

In spite of himself, Slade felt angry. He was going to lose the kid. There was no way around that...

Unless…

Slade opened up the communication line with every one of their militia force. “Men, it’s time to force the Dark Knight’s hand.” He didn’t bother to stop violating Jason as he spoke, and no doubt the men could hear strange sounds in the background as Jason struggled to silence himself again. “Focus all Rattlers, Diamondbacks, Mambas, and Dragon units on GCPD. It’s time to bring the whole building down.”

He cut the connection before Jason could object. “Slade! Ah! Ah! No!”

The super-soldier serum that had altered him came with the extra benefit of giving Slade inhuman stamina. That translated to all facets of his life. There had been times where Jason had thoroughly enjoyed that stamina. Where the two of them had spent the better part of whole days having marathon sex that left Jason incapacitated for a while after the fact.

This time it would take a lot longer for him to recover.

Slade pulled out and Jason moaned before a large hand wrapped around the back of his neck. “We’re not done.”

“Please…I can’t…I can’t do this anymore…”

“Begging? Now you’re BEGGING?” Slade threw him down and he struggled to catch himself with his one good arm. He sobbed like the pathetic child that he was when he’d first come into Slade’s care. Like he did when he first awoke from the nightmares of Arkham inmates violating him. Slade had taken the time to break the chains that kept him there. He’d done so much to make sure that Jason knew he wasn’t the Joker’s tool. He wasn’t the inmates’ toy. He was more than that.

And at some point, Slade had come to believe that, in some way, Jason was his.

But the Batman remained omnipresent in Jason’s heart. In his memories. The only way to make Jason completely his was to get rid of the Batman.

Now wasn’t the time to give up that venture.

Slade kicked Jason’s hand out from under him and pressed his knee to the kid’s back, holding him down as he took a zip-tie from his belt and forced Jason’s wrists together behind his back. “Batman can’t save you. Why can’t you see that?”

“I’m not…I don’t think…Ah!” Slade rolled so that he was flat on the ground, head closer to the control panel. He forced Jason to sit up on his lap so that the video feeds were all in full view for him. “Slade, please! The…the officers aren’t…I mean…”

“Earlier tonight you were ready to let them all die!” He was done being calm. He couldn’t contain his rage any longer. This wasn’t just a lesson, he was punishing the kid. “You were the one who lit the flame that sparked this whole thing! You poisoned the first officer! That was you!” Slade forced Jason to raise his hips just enough to position himself at the boy’s entrance. Suddenly Jason’s whole bod went rigid, and he tried to stay frozen in place, eyes glued to the screens. “This was YOUR plan!”

“I…”

Again, Slade could feel the shaking. There was no recovering from this. If he succeeded—if he killed the Bat—he wasn’t going to get his soldier back. He’d be lucky to get the kid coherent enough to warm his bed.

“Unacceptable.”

He gripped Jason’s hips with bruising force and pulled him down onto his cock with one cruel motion. Jason’s knees tensed on either side of Slade as he was torn open yet again. “Ah! Please! Please please, I can’t! I can’t!”

“We’re going to stay just like this until one of two things happens,” Slade decided. “You can have your reprieve when you get me to come—” a challenge that made Jason whimper, knowing full well that could take hours and Slade had no intention of helping him through the process “—or Batman will take out every single tank and drone I’ve sent after him.” He bucked his hips once and Jason moaned, leaning forward almost far enough for his tears to land on Slade’s mask. “I’ll prove to you that your Bat can’t save you. And like you said, you’re more than capable of saving yourself.”

Jason sputtered after another buck of Slade’s hips. At least while he’d been lying against the control panel there was only so far that he could be violated. In this position his own weight worked against him, and Slade’s crushing grip on his hips forced him to stay fully sheathed over the man’s impressive member. It was only a matter of time before he’d be lost in the throes of overstimulation, trying his best to ride Slade until he got it through his stubborn head that, just like before, Batman had failed him.

“He’ll…survive…” Jason opened his eyes and sat up as much as he could, looking at the screens as the drones converged on GCPD. “Th…think about it…after everything I’ve done…after everything he’s faced tonight…”

Slade didn’t want to hear it. He bucked his hips again and Jason shouted, his head falling back as he was fucked yet again.

“Batman can’t save you! He didn’t save you then, he won’t save you now! You’re mine, Jason! You’re going to be mine for the rest of your pathetic days! Just accept it!” Slade kept bucking up into Jason, forcing him up just a bit as he’d pull out, then pulling him down with punishing force as his hips thrust up, making him meet each blow to his prostate with as much impact as possible.

Jason’s cries were met with the sounds of gunfire and engines. The Bat had already been put through the ringer. There was no way he could handle the full force of their militia. Jason would see that. He’d have to understand that his old mentor wasn’t infallible. He’d come to understand that he had no hope.

“You’re going to have to put in a little more effort if you want to get me off, kid,” Slade taunted, stopping his thrusts for a moment to see if Jason had accepted his fate. “Or does it take more than this to get you going? You want me to treat you like those psychopaths did?”

Jason stiffened again, and Slade knew he’d struck a nerve.

“Don’t think I don’t know every scar on your body. Just because your torso’s still covered doesn’t mean you have any secrets from me. Bullet holes and cuts that you received during training are one thing. Those places where your skin puckers; that’s Zsasz’s trademark blade-work. The places where your bones healed out of place; most likely Bane or—God help you—Killer Croc. The old burn marks near your neck and around your ass; no doubt where Penguin stubbed out a few cigars on you. And as always,” Slade reached towards Jason’s face and he turned away, “the brand that will never fade…But he’s gone. You don’t belong to him. You don’t belong to the Bat. You belong to me!”

[S-sir! Our systems have been hacked! Someone’s setting up EMP’s and self-destruct sequences! We’re losing tanks left and right!]

Slade stilled.

[I don’t know how he’s doing it, sir, but he’s taken down most of our forces!]

[What should we do sir?]

[Sir?]

“Y…You were…going to kill me,” Jason muttered. The shaking finally stopped. His legs trembled slightly from the strain of his own weight, but it wasn’t the fear anymore. It wasn’t the pain. “But you didn’t…You could have gotten me out of there and put an end to it. You completed our contract…I…I brought you into this…” He leaned forward and Slade loosened his grip, letting Jason press his forehead to the Deathstroke mask and close his teary eyes, smiling. “You DID save me, Slade. You…you saved me every day after Arkham. It’s only because of you that I’m here. It’s only…it’s only because of you, that I can’t let Arkham hold me any longer…It’s time to let go.”

[Sir…Batman has taken out all tanks and drones…GCPD still stands…]

It would be the easiest thing to go back on his word. To force Jason to continue taking him in. He could even send Batman a little transmission to motivate him to prove his worth only to kill him in front of his lost Robin after everything. It would be the easiest thing in the world.

But then he’d be just as monstrous as the Joker was in the boy’s mind. He’d wipe out anything good that there had been between them. The young and virile soldier whom Slade had come to love would be gone without a trace.

“Go.”

Jason scoffed as Slade’s hands came off of his hips. With great effort, and no help from the old man, he got to his feet. Slade lay, staring at the ceiling, indifferent to how Jason continued to struggle. He’d managed to slip a switchblade from his boot before he straightened up and used it to cut the zip tie around his wrists. Uncaring of the pants still hanging embarrassingly low, he shuffled over to a pillar and positioned his injured shoulder just right before slamming into it, crying out in pain as he forced his arm back into place. Only after he had use of both arms did he slide his pants back up carefully.

“You know what’s coming,” Slade reminded him. “With or without our help, Crane’s going to go through with it.”

“Yeah…I know…He took Robin…”

“Did Crane…visit with you in Arkham?”

Jason flinched, still shuffling with his belt when Slade asked. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You agreed to work with him through all of this. Would you have agreed with a man who had violated you?”

“Crane…never touched me,” Jason admitted. “All he cared about was witnessing my fear. Down there…he said I was disappointing. Everything I could ever even conceive to be afraid of was already there, tormenting me. He knew I blamed Batman, so I sought him out first when I thought we’d amassed enough of an army. I wanted Bruce to hurt. I wanted him to know, even just a little, what I felt for two years down there.”

“Was it enough?”

Jason lifted his broken helmet off the ground and stared at the reflection of his face against the red surface. “It’s enough to know he was afraid to lose me.” He placed the helmet back on over his head and it covered his face, hiding the mess that Slade had made.

Jason’s gait was messed up; he limped to the entryway and leaned against the doorframe for a long moment with his back to the control room. They both knew this was it. “I’m sorry things didn’t go according to plan,” he said softly before heading out, no doubt to do the last thing he ever thought he would: save Batman.

“Me too, kid…Me too.”


End file.
